Betrayed Forced Mate (Rosecreek Special Ops Wolves #4)

“Find a boat,” Bigby says, “let’s keep moving.”

The next dock we come to has a brand-new boat docked and chained up. Getting through the chains and untying the ropes is no problem, but the boat is biometrically opened. Olivia and I stand in front of the door, working hard, finding the owner, copying images of him, and texturing them carefully. A moment later, we’re able to use the data from the images to trick the machine into thinking the boat’s owner is here.

“Welcome, Mr. Greese,” the boat sings as we walk into the cabin.

“Thank you, Mr. Greese,” Bigby says, coming to the controls and taking over the wheel. Olivia stands next to him, directing him with the tracker on her tablet. When I turn and see Percy digging around in the cabin, I turn and walk over to him.

“Hey, man,” I say, and when he looks up at me, there’s the slightest bit of the Percy from the woods staring back at me. I wonder if that part of him will always be there, dormant, waiting for his moment to come out. Even though this is stressful, Percy’s handling it a lot better than I thought, keeping his head.

I wonder if the part of me that doesn’t want a family—that doesn’t think I deserve one—is like serum Percy. If that part of me will always be there, whispering in the back of my head, begging for a chance to come out. But maybe I can learn to push it down, keep it contained, and deal with it when it comes out.

When we talked about Veronica’s pregnancy in the car, Olivia’s face flashes to mind, and my heart clenches at the memory of what she was feeling at that moment. As I sat next to her in the backseat, her emotions flooded into me like they were my own: jealousy, guilt over the jealousy, then more jealousy, then anger and sorrow.

“Hey,” Percy says, holding something out to me. I take it—it looks like a leather bag of some sort. When I undo the clasp, and it unrolls, it reveals several throwing knives.

“What the fuck?” I ask, eyes flying up to his. “Who the hell is Mr. Greese?”

“I don’t know,” Percy mutters, shaking his head as he continues tearing through the man’s stuff. “But he’s clearly up to something shady. What’s Olivia’s weapon of choice? He’s probably got something in here for her.”

“Oh,” I say, blinking, then shrugging. “Tablet?”

Percy looks up, his jaw ticking, then he nods.

“Fair,” he says, “found a little something for Bigby. I think he’s going to like this.”

“Holy shit,” I say, when Percy straightens up with a huge gun case. “Is that a rocket launcher?”

“Looks like it,” Percy says, his voice so tense it could snap at any second. “How close are we? Those fuckers deserve death by fucking rocket launcher.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I say, “but the rocket launcher might be a little too broad, considering Veronica is still in there.”

“Right,” Percy says, “still. I’ll give it to Bigby. He’s the best person to carry it. Just in case we need it.”

“Right,” I say, making a mental note to check on Mr. Greese and see who the hell he is—and who the hell is going to be pissed with us when he finds out who hijacked his boat and took his weapons.

When the boat turns sharply, Percy reaches out, and I grab his forearm, helping him steady himself. After it levels out, I clear my throat and meet his eyes.

“Hey,” I say, trying to figure out how to do this, how to be the supportive, reliable one. “We’ll get her.”

“Yeah,” he says, his hand on the back of his neck.

“You know what she said to me the other day?” I ask, looking down at the throwing knives. “She said that we can get through this. This shit with me and my prejudice toward vamps. She said—” I swallow, meeting his eyes. “She said we would get through it because we’re family, and that’s what family does.”

Percy rolls his lips into his mouth, his eyes going glassy.

“You got a good one,” I laugh, shaking my head, “and I can’t believe I’m saying that right now.”

“It means a lot,” Percy says, clearing his throat. “You’re my best friend. But she’s my wife.”

“No, I know,” I say, “it’s my shit to work through. Apparently, I have a lot of that. But I’m working through it. And someday, we’ll be able to look back and think it’s funny that I ever felt this way. Hopefully, that will mean something to her, ease the sting.”

“You know what?” Percy says, clapping his hand on my shoulder, “I think you helping to save her life is going to help ease the sting, too.”

Just then, the boat jolts, hard, making Percy crash into me. We go toppling to the ground, and I hold the knives out so they don’t impale anyone. The rocket launcher crashes to the ground, skittering to a stop at the doorway to the cabin.

“Hey,” Bigby says, his loud voice booming through the space. “We’re here—oh shit!”

From my upside-down vantage point, I watch as he leans down, picking it up like it weighs nothing and flips open the lid.